Stellaris: The Awakening (Discontinued)
by Zelevas
Summary: An ancient plan is enacted. A last, desperate bid for survival by an ancient people on the verge of total annihilation that spans millions of years and involves humanity in ways it cannot begin to comprehend... (Although set as complete, this is technically discontinued)
1. Prologue

**~Author's Note~**

Stellaris does not belong to me, nor do any of its assets. All rights go to Paradox Interactive. This is simply a fan based work.

**~PROLOGUE~**

A pair of tall, lithe figures clad in drab gray cloaks, curved helmets, and metallic bodysuits stood side by side, staring into the star-filled void of space stretching out beyond the circular view port before them. A void which was currently being illuminated by the glow of a yellow sun several light years behind their ship, an ornately curved thing in and of itself made from a stronger, more rigid, variant of the silvery material that comprised their suits.

"Are you certain this will work?" the figure on the right asked, breaking the silence that blanketed the ships' interior like a shroud. Though the suit they wore was modulated, it did little to hide its owner's apprehension.

"No," the other replied steadily, their visored gaze still locked on the bluish-green orb floating off in the distance. "But what choice do we have? The traitors have all but annihilated our military with their combined fleets and driven our people to the verge of extinction. At least with this we have a chance at survival, however minuscule it may be."

The figure on the right shook their head. "Still, the risk for failure is high. All it would take is one extinction-level event or a single deviation in their technological advancement to ruin the whole thing..."

_"I am well aware of the risks!"_ the figure on the left snapped, casting what could be interpreted best as an annoyed glare at their compatriot before shifting their attention back to the planet. "But it's either this or standing by and doing nothing as everything we've built collapses around us."

Raising a gloved hand, they brought up a holographic display, activating a series of elaborate symbols that materialized in the air before them, causing the ship to rock back slightly as a small cylinder was launched from some unseen orifice on its underbelly, sending it streaking towards the planets barren satellite at high speeds. A message reading** [ARCHIVE CAPSULE DEPLOYED]** appeared a few seconds later before vanishing.

Bringing up another set of symbols, the figure briefly fired up the ship's rear thrusters, causing its backward momentum to cease before dismissing all remaining displays with a slight flick of the wrist.

"It's done," they said, turning to face the armored being off to their right. "Has the genome been implanted?"

The being nodded. "It has."

"What about genetic drift and random mutations?" the being on the left asked, cocking their head to the side inquisitively.

"All taken care of," the other replied, clasping their hands behind their back. "Our species genome has been completely sealed off from theirs. They'll be carriers, nothing more."

The figure on the left nodded slowly. "Good. Let us hope our faith in this plan was not misplaced..."


	2. Chapter 1

**~CHAPTER ONE: BUSINESS AS USUAL~**

Emily let out a loud yawn as she rolled over and shut off her alarm clock, which was beeping incessantly, as though her being fully conscious was a matter of life and death. It wasn't, of course, but the mindless machine didn't know that. It followed a pre-programmed routine without question, something that annoyed a night owl like herself to no end.

She supposed it wasn't entirely the clock's fault though, she was the one who'd set the timer for six in the morning after all. Still, her piercing headache combined with the thought of the activities she had planned for today made her wish she could simply sink into her pillows and disappear. Closing her eyes, Emily attempted to fall asleep again, but her mind wouldn't let her reach the rest she craved so badly. So, slowly shifting into a sitting position, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, letting them come to rest against the hardwood floor which was slightly chilled from the large drop in temperature last night.

Letting out a startled gasp, she got up as quickly as she could and moved onto the carpet covering the center of her sparsely decorated bedroom, wiggling her toes in the process to get some warmth back into them. Stretching a bit, she went over to her bathroom and began the somewhat arduous process of getting cleaned up and ready for the day before checking in on Mr. Bibbity, her rather large pet hermit crab. Crouching down in front of his tank as she ran a comb through her long jet-black hair, Emily watched as he scuttled out from underneath a hollowed-out rock she'd found for him at the beach years back and moved over to peer through the glass at her with his beady, yet highly intelligent, eyes.

Giving the glass a slight tap, she smiled as he tapped back with a purple-tinged claw. Emily wasn't sure why, but there was something about her pet crab that fascinated her. Maybe it was the way he looked or how he acted, but from the moment she saw him pop out of his shell at the pet store, she knew she had to have him. Rising to her full height, she carefully removed the lid to his tank and reached inside, causing him to scuttle away from her hand as she grabbed his food dish and poured some more pellets inside. Placing the dish back inside where he could reach it, she replaced the lid and dried her hand on a towel lying nearby before a notification rang out on her phone. Walking over to her purse she pulled out her phone and unlocked it giving the notification, which turned out to be a text message, a quick look.

_"__Important division meeting on Thursday, 9:45 AM. Don't be late."_

She sighed. Today was Monday. Even though that left her at least two days to prepare, she still couldn't shake the strong feeling apprehension that welled up within the pit of her stomach. Her division hadn't been doing too well lately, and she'd heard rumors that the higher ups were making some changes structure-wise. While none of the divisions at the Marshall Flight Center had been officially shutdown yet, she didn't feel as though they were completely safe from getting the axe.

Shutting off her phone, Emily stuffed it back into her purse with a sigh. She gathered her things and left her small one-story house. The meeting could wait. For now, she had someone more important she had to see…

Her father.


	3. Chapter 2

**~CHAPTER TWO: PREMONITIONS~**

Ivanov Dmitrievich sat at the cramped metal desk he'd been provided by observatory staff, alternating between furious typing and taking large swigs from his half-empty coffee mug as various readouts scrolled across the computer monitor sitting before him, his reflection staring back at him from its inky surface like some baleful sentinel. It had been weeks since he was initially called in by the director of the Pulkovo Observatory to help try and make sense of the flurry of unintelligible messages they'd been receiving from space for the last five months, yet he hadn't gotten any closer to cracking it despite his thirty-five years' worth of experience as a communications specialist. It just didn't make sense. What were these odd symbols or those strange diagrams? Why did one set of writings move, seemingly of its own accord, and the other sit there so rigidly it felt as though his brain were being stabbed every time he looked at it?

He ran his hand over his face, sighing loudly as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

It was maddening.

"Not making any progress I see." A feminine voice said from somewhere off to his right.

Ivanov let out another sigh, running his hands through his slate-gray hair as he turned to face the owner of the voice. It was Amanda Gering, a lithe Germanic woman in her mid-thirties with emerald-colored eyes, whose neon blue hair was always worn in a short pixie style cut. She was the observatory's resident IT expert and had been instrumental in recovering the facilities database after a mysterious pulse tore through the building, knocking out power for six hours before onsite maintenance finally managed to repair the building's primary generators and restore functionality. It hadn't been a flawless process however and a great deal of information that was stored on their servers had been forever lost.

"No, unfortunately." He replied, taking note of the disheveled state she was in. Her normally cheerful mood had plummeted straight into sluggish apathy and her clothing, which consisted of a red tank top and jeans, was wrinkled beyond belief. Looking a bit closer, he could even see the dark outline of a stain on one of her pants legs that smelled faintly of espresso. "What about you? You figure out what's causing the discrepancies you've been seeing in your servers?"

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Nope. I don't have the faintest idea of what's causing it. Our code just disappears at random along with other information we have stored. I have no idea where it's going, what it's being used for, or why anyone would want it as all we have in the server data was stolen from is some info on the surrounding area. The general location of the observatory, what country it's in, that kind of thing." She shrugged.

"On the bright side though," she said, tugging the pants leg with the stain on it, her tone becoming sardonic. "I _have _learned that freshly made espresso burns like a bitch when coming into contact with flesh, regardless of whether said flesh is clothed or not."

Ivanov chuckled lightly, simply because there was nothing else, he could do. They were both overstressed, overworked, and at their wits end with this whole situation.

"Anyway," Amanda said, attempting to smooth out her clothes. "What _have_ you learned? I know you haven't gotten anywhere in figuring out what the messages say, but surely; you've found something of interest." She gestured to the screen, which was currently filled with row upon row of blocky text which was spaced out at odd intervals.

"Well," Ivanov began, swiveling his chair back round to the monitor. "I have stumbled across a pattern of sorts. Over the last five months, after the pulse, these messages have been coming in everyday correct?"

"Yeah," Amanda replied, peering at the screen from over his shoulder. "So far as we know."

"See here's what's odd about that. Going back through the records the director has given me access to, I noticed that the messages would change symbol type every twenty-four hours or so. Like it was cycling through them or something," he said, pulling up some of their old logs.

"So, if I understand you correctly… you think this isn't random?" she asked, the gears in her mind beginning to turn.

"Exactly. I think whatever is sending these messages is doing so for a reason. And judging from its point of origin, that being space, I think whatever is sending these isn't human."

Amanda felt a chill run up her spine. If what he was suggesting was true, and not simply a glitch in the system or a virus implanted by some outside source and made to look like it had come from space, that could only mean these messages were extraterrestrial. An idea that was just as terrifying as it was insane. If these were sent from some advanced alien race or intellect, then she had to wonder if their interest in contacting the inhabitants of Earth was purely out of curiosity.

If it wasn't then was humanity, as a species, ready to face that possibility?

To be honest? She doubted it.

"Let's say," she began, formulating her words carefully. "Let's say these are aliens. If they are, and they're cycling their language, then that's a good thing, right? That means they're willing to communicate."

"Or they're threatening us," he said, turning to look at her. "And we've just stumbled into an intergalactic diplomatic crisis. Though it's foolish to make any assumptions as we don't even have the contents of these messages."

Amanda nodded, about to respond, when a slight tremor rocked the building causing every light and monitor in the structure to flicker violently before returning to normal once the disturbance passed. Peering around the room anxiously, the pair's attention was quickly diverted back to Ivanov's monitor which now had a new message on it, this time in binary code.

Ivanov cast a wary glance at Amanda. "Can you read this?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding slowly, her eyes running over the lines of ones and zeroes. "I can, and ou're not going to believe what it says..."


	4. Chapter 3

**~CHAPTER THREE: REUNIONS~**

Emily let out a sigh, idly fingering the pen she was holding, letting it hover aimlessly over the blank field where her name should have been. Even after all these years, after everything they'd been through, she still found visiting her father difficult. It shouldn't have to be this way-and normally it wouldn't have-but with the rate at which her dad's condition had accelerated, nothing was normal anymore. It was hard to imagine that this man, the one she used to be able to come to with all her problems, was treating her as though she were a total stranger.

That was awful in and of itself, but the fact that there was nothing she could do to help him was what truly hurt her. The fact that, no matter what she did or how hard she tried, she couldn't get her father back to the way he'd been before this whole mess. Emily sighed, shaking her head to clear it. She might not be able to get him back to the way he used to be, but she'd be damned if she let him spend what could be his last days on this Earth without her by his side. Placing pen against paper, she quickly scrawled her name in the space provided and handed the sign-in sheet over to the man on the other side of the receptionist counter.

"Here to see your father again miss Amherst?" He asked, taking the sheet from her and entering the information in a computer off to his left.

"Yes," she replied with a nod. "How has he been doing by the way?"

"As well as can be expected," he said, handing her a plastic admission slip. "His condition doesn't show any sign of lessening, but on the bright side, he has taken quite the interest in the outdoors. Spends most of his time out in the yard actually."

"Well, that's better than nothing," Emily replied, cracking a slight smile as she took the slip from him and made her way deeper into the building. _"At least he's getting lots of sun and fresh air…" _

Walking along the relatively busy halls, her tennis shoes making small squeaks as she traversed the polished tile floor, Emily took some time to examine her surroundings. Although she had been here many times before, she couldn't help but be amazed at how cozy the whole place felt, what with its pumpkin tinged walls strewn with decorations made by the various residents. A surprisingly well-made finger painting here or a collage of old family photos there, running down the entire length of the hall, only interrupted by windows at seemingly random intervals. It was just… nice. Refreshing, quite unlike the cold and clinical atmosphere of other places she'd looked at.

Continuing on her way, she picked up the faint scent of freshly cooked stew wafting out into the hall from somewhere off to her left, while the theme song from the show Jeopardy-as well as the loud responses from those watching it-echoed from another room further down, causing her smile to grow even wider as a result. It reminded her of all the times she spent watching game shows with her dad when they ate meals together. Shows like Who Wants To Be A Millionaire or Wipeout. They'd always try to outdo each other, make bets on who'd fail a course first or see how many questions each one of them could get right.

Now, however… well, now she was just glad she could still talk to him, even if he wasn't able to respond.

Rounding a corner, Emily's stride slowed to a shuffle as she approached the room her father usually stayed in. Peeking through the open doorway, she could see him sitting in a rocking chair off to the leftmost side of the room, his gaze trained on some unseen object beyond the open window before which he sat. She let out a small sigh as she strode up to him, her eyes flicking over his robed form as they had done many times before. Outwardly he looked normal, his curly black hair perfectly kempt, face clean-shaven, and his clothes in good order, but his eyes were vacant. Empty. Revealing the true nature of his current internal state, which was akin to a mental fog from which no thoughts could escape.

"Hey dad," she said, gently resting her hand on his shoulder. "It's me, Emily. I uh, I brought you something..."

She pulled a small thin box from her pocket and placed it in his lap. Opening it, she took out its contents one by one and held them up for him to see. The first of which was an old silver wristwatch he used to wear. "For good luck," he would always say. That and, "If you always know what time it is, you're never truly late."

Granted it wasn't _exactly _true, as far as sayings went anyway, but she didn't mind. In all honesty she found her father's quaint little phrases rather charming despite their inaccuracies. Reaching back into the box, she pulled out another item, a seashell necklace. The very same one she'd made for him during their summer trip to Orange Beach back when she was still in middle school. Holding it up for him to see, she laid her head against his shoulder, which was rising and falling rhythmically with each breath he took. Letting her mind wander back to that time, Emily allowed herself to become lost for a bit before the sound of a car horn blaring from somewhere outside snapped her out of her reverie. Placing the necklace and watch back into the box, she rooted around inside for a bit till her fingers brushed up against a smooth, laminate-like surface.

Picking it up, she removed item from the box.

It was a photograph. One of her, her father, and her mother all sitting in front of a lavishly decorated Christmas tree whose trunk was surrounded by colored boxes of various shapes and sizes. All three of them had wide smiles on their faces. It made Emily… nostalgic in a strange way. Made her wish she could go back to those simpler times before the appointment and the painful migraines that had prompted it, before the scans and tests. Before the false hope that something could be done to save him despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Yet here she was, stuck in this harsh reality that was completely out of her control. Shaking her head slightly, she placed the items back in their polished wooden container and set it down on a table nearby. Getting to her feet, she gave her father a quick peck on the cheek before moving towards the doorway, only to linger upon reaching the threshold.

"Love you dad," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "Always."

Turning away, she quietly slipped out of the room and into the sunlit hall beyond.


	5. Chapter 4

**~CHAPTER FOUR: REVELATIONS~**

"So, let me see if I'm understanding you correctly," Ivanov began, swiveling his chair round to face Amanda. "This facility has been receiving a letter of inheritance for the last five months?"

"To put it simply," Amanda replied, placing a hand on her hip as she leaned over slightly, her eyes scanning the rows of code that had appeared on the screen minutes earlier. "Yes."

"Fascinating…" Ivanov muttered, staring at the lines of code in awe, as though they were some kind of myth made flesh. After his exhilaration had passed, however, he suddenly realized that Amanda had told him what it meant, but not what it said, so he decided further inquiry into the matter was required.

"So what does it say?" he asked. "I mean you've told me _what_ it is_, _but I've yet to hear what it actually says."

"Ah, sorry about that," she replied, leaning in closer to get a better look at the screen. Placing a finger against it, she traced it along the lines of ones-and-zeros at a steady rate as she began to read. "It says, **'The way has been opened. Reach out and claim your heritage,'**" Amanda explained, slowly rising to her full height as she pressed a hand against her lower back. "That's the main message anyway, but there's a bit near the end that seems to be a pair of coordinates, though I have absolutely no idea where they lead."

Ivanov nodded, rubbing his stubble covered chin. "Hmm, interesting. What are the coordinates?"

"Let's see here…" Amanda began, squinting as she studied the code. After a couple of minutes, however, she let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed a nearby pad. Taking a pen from a holder that also happened to be nearby, she began scrawling down a series of numbers and letters. Turning to Ivanov, she handed him the pad with a small shrug. "I don't know how to say coordinates without sounding like an idiot."

"No worries my friend," he said, taking the pad from her with a small chuckle. "Neither do I. Now, let's see here… hmm, this is interesting. If I remember my teenage browsing habits correctly, well maybe not _that_ correctly, I do believe this is the location of a crater on the moon. The Vendelinus crater to be exact."

Amanda blinked. "How do you know that?"

"Well among other things, I had a keen interest in the lunar surface as a teen," he explained with a sideways smile. "It bordered on obsession really. I remember going out on nights when it was full just to stare at it for hours on end. I didn't look at it through a telescope or anything, I just sat there and watched it. And then when I got my own computer, I spent hours looking up all the information I could find on it at the time. To this day I'm still not sure why I found it so fascinating, but there you have it. Don't ask me to find any other craters though. It's been so long I'm surprised I could even remember that one's name, let alone its exact coordinates."

"Huh, I'll keep that in mind. Our coordinate reading and memory deficiencies aside, however," Amanda said, drumming her fingers on the table. "I think we should take this information to the director. He'll be able to contact the proper channels and get it to the right people."

Ivanov nodded, rising from his seat. "Sounds like a plan."

Saving what data they had acquired onto a USB drive, Ivanov shut off the computer and followed Amanda through the relatively empty corridors of the observatory, pad and USB in hand. A couple of minutes the pair reached the director's office. Rattling off a series of taps on the polished wooden door, they waited patiently as the sound of papers rustling and muffled thumping could be heard from within, before a small click followed by a loud "Come in!" could be heard from the other side. Opening the door, the duo stepped into a well-furnished box of disarray. Papers were strewn all across the director's desk, some of which had spilled onto the floor, while the man himself was busy running to and fro between that and a filling cabinet nearby.

"Apologies for the mess," he said in a thick accent. "I was busy reorganizing some documents when a roach scuttled its way across my desk, dragging its disgustingly bloated thorax across the place I had planned on eating my lunch."

He paused briefly, casting a sideways glance at them.

"Suffice to say, it has been dealt with," he remarked, placing a stack of papers into a binder. "Enough of all that though. Tell me, how goes the investigation? Have you learned anything new about those strange messages we've been receiving?"

"Indeed we have sir," Amanda said, gesturing for Ivanov to step forward with a small nod. "Though you might want to sit down before we show you exactly what we've found."

The director stared at them for a bit, seemingly pondering whether or not their advice was worth following, before eventually nodding his assent and falling into his chair with a loud grunt.

"Very well," he said, steepling his fingers as he propped his elbows up on the desk. "Now, show me what you've uncovered."

"Well, it's quite a long story sir," Amanda said, as Ivanov placed the USB and pad onto the directors' desk. "And most of the information can be found on that drive there, but it appears those messages we've been receiving for the last five months are not human in origin."

The director raised an eyebrow as he opened up his laptop and inserted the USB into one of the many ports lining its side. "What do you mean not human in origin? Do you mean to tell me we've been getting messages from aliens for the last five months?"

Ivanov let out a nervous chuckle. "No disrespect meant sir, but that's exactly what we're saying. We've ruled out a glitch in the system or signals that were sent out from Earth and came back garbled, so extraterrestrial involvement is the only real answer. And I think once you see the message itself, you'll be as convinced about it as we are."

The director stared at Ivanov blankly, but otherwise said nothing as he opened up the contents of the drive. Moving several files onto his laptop, the man began to look through them, carefully scrutinizing every piece of information he came across, until he finally came to the message itself. Scratching the side of his balding head, the director turned his attention back to the pair.

"I assume this is the translation?" He asked, turning the laptop around so they could see what he was referring to. Seeing their nods of confirmation, the man spun the laptop back round and stared at the screen intently. "Well, assuming all of this is true, this could be the discovery of the century."

"Discovery of the century" though was an understatement. If it was all real and they could find a way to take hold of this 'legacy', whatever it might be, then they could revolutionize life for the entire human race. They could make everything better; undo generations of environmental damage, improve pre-existing infrastructures, build more efficient hospitals and transportation systems, and distribute services to individuals all around the globe. Assuming it was all true of course. Which, from everything they'd seen thus far, it seemed to be. Leaning back in his seat with a slight exhale, the director scratched the side of his nose absentmindedly before turning his attention back to Amanda and Ivanov.

"Look," he began, tapping the desk idly. "Even with everything you've shown me here, I'm still not entirely convinced. I was staring up at the stars long before being chosen to oversee operations here, and I haven't found anything in my fifty years of stargazing that would suggest the existence of extraterrestrial life. Still… you two have years of experience in your chosen fields of work, and you seem to believe it's genuine…"

The director fell silent, his brow furrowed in thought. After a while, however, he spoke.

"Alright, I'm willing to take a risk here but you're going to need more documentation on this if you want anyone outside of this institution to believe you," he said, turning his gaze towards them. "And in order to do that we _need _more proof. Scans, images, whatever we can get our hands on. Luckily for us these alien "benefactors" of ours gave the exact coordinates for our so called legacy, which means we don't need to spend months combing every inch of the moon to find it, so that's where we'll start looking. Might seem counterintuitive, but I find eliminating the most obvious option first to be the best way of going about things like this. Either way you're free to return to your stations, or at least Amanda is anyway. Ivanov I'd like you to remain here for a bit so we can discuss the matter of your payment."

Ivanov nodded as Amanda left the room.

"So," the director began, turning his attention to the younger man. "How does three-hundred ruble's sound?"

Ivanov stood there a moment, turning over the amount in his head. It wasn't much compared to other nations pay rates, but for an average worker in Russia, it was better than what he usually would have gotten had he been working for the government or with a company of some sort, so he supposed it was an alright price.

"Sounds fine sir," he said, nodding slightly.

The director rubbed his hands together, "Good! I'll wire you the funds near the end of the day."

Ivanov nodded and left the room as the director turned his attention back to his computer, the clacking of keys signifying the composition of the e-mail that would be sent to the proper channels within the Russian government, eventually making its way further up the chain of command, to the U.N. itself.

The director let out a tense sigh.

He hoped he'd made the right choice.


	6. Chapter 5

**~CHAPTER FIVE: FEAR COMETH~**

Emily tapped her foot nervously as she watched the PowerPoint presentation crawl by, slide after slide arduously making their way across the white projection screen through intermittent pauses as the one conducting the presentation-a coworker by the name of Ruth Ellis-stopped to explain the various projects her team was currently working on, or planned to in the future. It wasn't that Emily wasn't happy for her colleague though. Rather, it was the fact that today was the day she'd been dreading since visiting her father. The day the various divisions at the Marshall Flight Center had been called together to discuss "big changes" as management had put it.

Big changes her ass.

This meeting had been called to discuss the termination of certain divisions deemed unnecessary by the higher-ups due to a lack of funds or other such bureaucratic nonsense, and she knew it. No one had said anything of course, but Emily could figure it out well enough. To be honest it hadn't been that difficult to piece together. All she'd had to do was cast a quick glance around the room. The expressions worn by those gathered, which were stuck somewhere between nervous anticipation and grim acceptance, were more than enough to tip her off to the truth of the situation. Squeezing her eyes shut with a slight exhale, she drummed her fingers against the conference table as Ruth's presentation came to an end and the overhead lights flickered to life. Wincing slightly as she pried her eyes open, she turned her attention back to the front of the room as Daniel Spears returned to his position at the head of the long oval table around which they were all gathered.

"Thank you for the update Ruth," he said, giving her a slight nod, before turning his attention back to those gathered. "Now then, let's get onto the heart of the matter, shall we? I assume you've all been made aware about the major changes the center is currently undergoing with its various divisions?"

Those assembled gave slight nods of acknowledgement. Emily as well, though with some trepidation as she knew what was coming next.

"Alright then! Let's get down to it shall we?" He leans against the table, meeting the gazes of everyone in the room. "Due to various concerns over the efficacy of the divisions here at the center, management has decided to make several sweeping changes, some of which, unfortunately, include sizeable cuts in staff."

"Does that mean we'll be let go?" someone, a young clean-shaven man by the name of Zachary Bates, asked rather naïvely.

Daniel sighed, "Possibly. That or you'll be transferred to another division entirely. In the end, however, it's up to management. If they decide you go, then…"

He shrugs, running a finger across his throat.

"I… I see," Zachary said anxiously. Emily didn't blame him. For people his age, and hers for that matter, good financial security was hard to come by. Especially if one wanted to stay debt free on top of it all.

"So we won't know exactly who's getting axed then?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daniel shook his head, "Not right off the bat, no. You will receive an e-mail notifying you of your divisions current status by the end of the day however."

Emily's eyes narrowed slightly as she turned over that information in her head, though Daniel hardly noticed the gesture as he had already moved on into the next matter of business on the meeting's agenda, giving her a rare moment of solace with which to sort out her thoughts. So divisions were being cut, but they wouldn't know which ones specifically until the end of the day. She sighed. Where she had been somewhat concerned before, she was doubly so now. Although she had anticipated the cuts, Emily _hadn't _expected them to be brought about in such a vague and uncertain manner.

Granted, there wasn't much she could do about it other than hope and pray she still had a job at the end of the day. So, with a faint exhale, she turned her attention back to the meeting, which seemed to drag on for hours. After a while, however, the conference mercifully came to an end, and those present were allowed to return to their respective workspaces. Idly twirling a pen between her fingers as she went, Emily made her way back to her station-a rather well maintained space with a medium-sized desk pushed up against one prefabricated wall and a chair sitting opposite it-weaving her way through row upon row of identical cubicles. Once there, she quickly pried open the laptop that was sitting on her desk and logged into her e-mail account. Even though it wasn't anywhere near the end of the workday for her, she wanted to check her inbox, regardless of if it had anything in it or not.

Call it an urge or compulsion brought on by the day's events, but she just couldn't stop herself from seeing if her fate had been decided yet…

A text notification on her phone caught her attention at the last moment, however, causing her to reluctantly pry her attention away from the monitor. Looking down at her mobile, she saw a message from Lucy Noel-a fellow engineer within her group that handled the hands on portion of rocket and shuttle construction-on the screen, asking whether or not they could implement a slight modification into the original design due to some concerns over the specifications. Shaking her head with a sigh, and pushing her worry away for the time being, Emily sent a brief message okaying the change before turning her attention back to the laptop. Pausing for a moment as her anxiety over her employment status slowly came crawling back, she eventually decided to focus on other things for the time being. She'd find out soon enough, and sitting here worrying about it for hours on end was an unproductive waste of time.

So, glancing at her monitors digital clock, she set to work creating new blueprints and sketches for spacecraft that would, hopefully, make humanities future interstellar jaunts a little safer and smoother. After a while, though, she gradually became lost among the hypothetical designs, and before she knew it, the workday had ended. Finishing up what little work she had left, Emily felt a dry lump form in her throat as her mouse hovered over the bright blue login button that was currently guarding her fate. Mustering her composure with a shaky breath, she clicked it-her password having been entered several seconds prior-and watched as various folders flashed into existence, the topmost of which had a white one embedded in a grey box directly to its right.

Emily took a couple of breaths, clenching and unclenching her hands in preparation of what was to come. Moving her cursor over to the inbox, she closed her eyes and clicked.

When she opened them again, her heart sank.

_'__Ms. Emily Amherst, we regret to inform you that we are henceforth terminating your division due to its lackluster performance this past quarter…'_

There was some more in the message about management making provisions to help them find other sources of employment, but Emily's mind was too panicked to care. She'd been fired. That means she'd need to find a new job, but how would she be able to pay her father's bills and her own until then? And even if she found a new source of employment, there was no real guarantee it would actually pay well enough for her to support her father, let alone herself.

Taking a few shaky breaths, her frustration and stress over the whole situation reaching a boiling point, Emily began trembling as her composure finally broke. Burying her face in her hands, she started to sob, tears cutting jagged tracks through her makeup as they seared their way down her face.


	7. Progress Update

**{{Just a quick update, not a new chapter unfortunately, but work on chapter six is still ongoing. Motivation to write has been low as of late unfortunately, what with school work and all, so progress has been... well glacial. Additionally I've sort of hit a wall as to where I should take things in this chapter. Basically while I don't plan on abandoning this, it might take even longer than I expected to continue and/or finish.}}**


	8. Progress Update Two

**{{Given my current motivation levels and amount of things to do in general, I might just have to set this aside for the time being. So, unfortunately, this fanfic is discontinued until further notice}}**


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